When it rains, it pours
by ScissorSheep
Summary: "Doc feels his lips tug at the very corners, a laugh slips past them, it's such a foreign sound against the cloudy haze of his normally sane mind. Although the million dollar question at this point was what had sanity really ever been before the voices in his head oozed into his mind to fill the cracks that had been there from the very start." Doc/O'Malley SPOILERS.


**AN:/ Hey guys, fair warning this does contain spoilers for Rvb Season 13 episode 10, if you have not read it, I highly suggest you check it out before reading this.**

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Doc feels his lips tug at the very corners, a laugh slips past them, it's a foreign sound against the cloudy haze of his normally sane mind. Although the million dollar question at this point was: what had sanity really ever been before the voices in his head oozed through to fill up the cracks of his insanity. Yes Frank was a man of integrity, but in the recesses of his mind, there always lurked a monster.

The medic had kept his insecurities deep inside his mind, exploited the urge he felt to help people and pursued a medical track. (Only to later on discover his skills were extremely inadequate to be treating people.)

Upon entering several internships (and failing) the only place willing to accept his medical services had been the military, whom at the time cared little to none about how well he did in basic training. He could run, which was really the only thing that the soon to be medic had going for him. Gliding through classes and barely passing, had been all the experience he received before being shipped off to blood gulch under the request of Dr. Leonard Church.

Being in the incorrect field (as the medic soon discovered) was something the man figured he could make up for with enthusiasm and the genuine want to help. While his excitement and drive to help people was often brushed aside, he pressed on never the less and hoped that with time he would be better qualified to better serve his patients.

Something for which never came.

The saving grace for him had been relinquishing control of his body and mind, gifting the reins over to the Artificial Intelligence Omega, who later bequeathed himself the name of O'Malley. Having transferred from a host that refused to relinquish control, to a subject who wanted nothing more then to submit, festered their subservient relationship that Doc would grow to rely heavily upon every single day.

The trenches of self loathing welcomed O'Malley with open arms, making room for the parasitic AI. The fine line in the battles of sanity was only stretched thinner in order to accommodate two individuals. While most of cracks would heal with time, (and later the loss of the Omega AI) there always remained the deepest scars that no amount of organic living would ever be able to heal.

Despite the lack of control over his own body, Doc was never bitter. In fact the medic felt an extreme sense of loss after the AI had left the deepest corners of his mind. Yet Omega's influence still remained, Doc had been changed, tainted in the most enlightening of ways. To have lost a primary piece of his mind in such a short amount of time evoked a desperate longing that filled Doc up to the brim. His senses had been filled with dust after being inactive for so long. It was thoroughly exhausting both physically and mentally as his nerves readjusted to receiving commands from one brain rather than two.

With the rediscovered ability to move his legs again without a stutter or delay, Doc learned exactly how taxing it was to simply move. Doc had formed such a grotesque reliance upon the AI for almost every aspect of his life. Every decision, be it in body or mind, had been taken care of for him. The medic had grown meek, lazy, and dependent upon the AI that had filled up his body and assumed control. At first Doc had been trapped in the confines of his flesh, held captive as O'Malley pursued his goals. (Most of which ran against the medic's personal virtues.)

As the days passed the medic found himself handing over his body willingly, perhaps even eagerly, he had never truly felt in control of his life anyway. Doc had always lived his life feeling insecure and nimble. When O'Malley crept into the crevices of his mind, the AI discovered the desperate ticking time bomb that Doc truly was.

Before Doc knew it his body had begun to rely on O'Malley in a way it never really had before, their physical relationship (despite sharing a body and sometimes suffering arousal together) had never crossed the barrier of simply controlling what had become both of their body's basic actions such as walking and breathing. Once O'Malley had grown accustomed to the general functions of a human body, he relied less and less on Doc and eventually took full control. Despite this the two were able to communicate with each other through the same vocal chords.

With O'Malley able to freely move about on his own, the two found themselves in the cusp of finding a solution towards their shared bodily arousal. Despite the new sensations and awkward functions of the human body, the previously non existent pleasantries coaxed the AI into finding an apt solution. Finally the both of them adjusted to their shared feelings and let the awkward tension melt into oblivion. They shared a hand and found completion one night when the sensations could no longer be diffused.

The consequences of sharing such an experience with the AI had yet to reveal itself and nothing could prepare the medic for the onslaught of physical pleasure that O'Malley would seek in their shared body. Experiencing the same pleasure but twice was something that was overstimulating to Doc. He found himself craving such affections, enraptured with the prospect of overwhelming his body, riding the fine line of over stimulation which was just an edge painful. It was an ache that Doc had never really felt before, and now never wanted to relinquish.

O'Malley's rather aggressive personality translated into his actions as the AI was not afraid to be physically aggressive whenever he deemed necessary. The prospect of being stripped of his pacifist nature was something that was entirely knew to Doc.

Not long after they started to explore the pleasures of their body, the two of them where forcibly parted.

Doc returned to his life as a struggling medic and moved on.

After spending a good while living with Donut, the medic felt as if perhaps the cracks that had been widened so much by O'Malley would start to heal, and they did. The cracks of insecurity and inexperience started to mend themselves together as the medic successfully nursed the flamboyant sim trooper back from the brink of death. The two men got along exceptionally well and formed a fast and easy friendship. They were practically married.

While they never crossed into a relationship, Doc still felt as if something was missing. Donut's personality had been a blessing, after having to deal with Wash, The Meta, and of course O'Malley, Donut was a most welcome change.

But there was still something missing, an itch that just could not be scratched.

Then they crashed on Chorus.

By force of the red team's leader, and really the lack of anything else to do, Doc accompanied the men in their scavenging for resources.

He didn't know that solace would soon seek him out.

With a sudden sharp, white hot pain Doc found himself elsewhere. He didn't know quiet where he was, all that he was able to recall was the fact that Grif had thrown a future (teleportation if he remembers correctly) cube at him. After the pain there was nothing but misery.

The only thing that Doc remembers during his time away was living out his nightmares day by day. The thoughts of his friends tirelessly searching for a way to bring him back, propelled Doc into seeking a way out. During his time in whatever place he had been whisked to, Doc's mind had begun to break. The cracks widened so deep, until one day his thoughts were so cloudy he could not even find the strength to move.

Pain ripped through his head, paralyzing his body, and before he knew it he was laughing up at the sky (or really whatever it was considering he didn't even know where he was) while the pain rippled through his body. The haze slowly melted and he felt his conscience thoughts return before they were chased away by the madness yet again.

That had been the final break.

The relief of such an immense mental pressure finally leaving him was beyond gratifying. Doc's lips quivered as a shaky breath slipped past his lips.

Nothing mattered but the sweet voice in his head, the lulling husky voice that had been parted from him for so long. O'Malley was back. The cracks had been filled up completely as the cold rush of another conscience filling his brain sent shivers down to the tips of his toes. He was wonderfully full, filled again with purpose and being. The nightmares became easier to deal with and eventually the medic clawed his way out and onto the snowy banks of Chorus. The man sought shelter in a cave and decided to rest before daring to journey in search of his friends.

Everything was ok now, nothing else mattered but the husky, sultry voice that filled his mind. It had been entirely worth enduring the nightmares, for the solace that he had long sought out had finally been returned to him on a silver platter.


End file.
